Chapter 83: Acting Separately

  When a timber yard owner walked into his boss's room, he nearly collapsed in fright.

  On the floor lay something barely resembling a human. Even arthropods didn't have limbs so twisted. Rather than limbs, they looked more like branches crudely grafted onto a body. The bones in his face were completely shattered; the skin seemed stretched taut over a pile of garbage, grotesquely contorted. His original features were unrecognizable. Where his mouth should have been was only a large, bloody hole, and dozens of teeth scattered on the floor had been knocked out from it. Above it, two smaller bloody holes held eyeballs dragged from their sockets, trailing cords of sinew. One ear beside them had been torn off.

  But this person was somehow still alive, trembling slightly. Though his body and face were completely deformed, his dark skin and wiry muscles suggested he was the same vigorous little worker from moments ago. He had only been brought in minutes ago.

  Clovis looked impatient. He had to admit that even the stubborn bones of these commoners were tough. Of course, he had many more tricks up his sleeve. He wanted to see if any bone could withstand his methods. Besides Duke Mrak and his master Roland, his favorite people to consult were the interrogators. He even knew how to flay a person piece by piece until they could watch their own internal organs and most of their skeleton while still alive. But now there was clearly no time to showcase these specialties. He needed to extract useful information as quickly as possible. His voice sounded like a demonic statue cursing: "Does this person have any family? Wife, parents, children, anything?"

  "He's from a local village. There are a few others from his village working in our yard. They all live together. Seems there are a few children too." The timber yard owner stammered, cowering in the corner.

  "Children?" Clovis revealed a vulture-like grin. "Bring them all to me."

  The timber yard owner fled as if for his life.

  "You... you're not human..." Hunter Levin struggled to utter the words through his bloody, cavernous mouth. The eyeballs dangling from their sockets glared at Clovis with the venom of a corpse.

  Clovis seemed pleased with the description. He smiled with a martial confidence. He hadn't uttered a sound since he began his interrogation, and now this man finally spoke. This was submission. Futile curses were proof that the other's will had broken. He disdainfully frowned: "I deliberately left your tongue because I knew you would talk. You stupid, filthy creatures. The end result is the same anyway. I don't know why you bother being so stubborn." He rarely showed mercy, bestowing it like alms. "Speak. While you can still hear, while you can still speak. Tell me everything I need to know in detail. You know you wouldn't want to hear those children crying, would you?"

  Rodhart and Ethan marched back into the city with a large contingent of troops. In this situation, there was nothing left to say. They would take the man by force.

  Ethan hadn't understood earlier why Rodhart was so cautious. Just the two of them – couldn't they handle one Clovis? Even if he was Roland's disciple, such a narrow-minded man, little more than the Duke's dog, how skilled could he be?

  But he also believed Rodhart's judgment was better than his own. If he decided this way, it meant returning with troops was the safer option.

  Now, listening to the orderly footsteps of the five hundred heavy infantry behind him, Ethan finally understood the benefits of having power at hand. While he felt confident they had at least an eighty percent chance of beating Clovis to a pulp and taking the man away, these five hundred heavy infantry offered at least an eighty percent guarantee. Even ten Clovises would have to get lost.

  But they had barely entered the city gate when they saw the bitter-faced local official hurrying towards them, squeezing a smile onto his gourd face. "My Lords, you indeed went back to the barracks. I have been waiting here for you. It's like this: the owner of the timber yard, that nobleman from the capital, the Erney family's big shot, the Duke's son-in-law, the Paladin Order captain..." He seemed to feel none of these exalted titles could be omitted, listing them all. "...he sent word that he has captured a group of ruffians who slandered the two of you as wanted criminals."

  Ethan and Rodhart looked at each other, their faces both changing.

  "This nobleman first summoned all our local officials to go. I know, it's our dereliction of duty that such audacious ruffians appeared, so it was right for him to summon us to receive a lesson." The bitter gourd, not noticing the lords' expressions, continued on his own. "The other officials have already gone. That nobleman told me that the two of you must have gone back to the barracks, so he asked me to wait here and invite the two of you to come together for questioning."

  Rodhart's face turned iron. He sighed heavily, waved a hand at the bitter-faced official, and said: "You go ahead. We'll follow shortly."

  The moment the official left, Rodhart turned to the commanding officer and ordered him to take the five hundred heavy infantry back to the barracks.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "What? We can still forcefully take him away," Ethan asked.

  "It's useless." Rodhart sighed softly. "Forcibly taking away those who slandered us in front of all the local officials? Even as Imperial Envoys, we have that power, but it leaves so many witnesses. With the Duke's methods, doing this would be no different from suicide."

  Ethan understood. In such a situation, even Bishop Ronis couldn't single-handedly cover up their actions. This was the law, this was politics, this was the Duke's world.

  "I underestimated Clovis. I always paid him little mind, thinking he was just the Duke's assistant. But I forgot one thing: if he didn't have outstanding ability and intellect, why would the Duke make him his deputy? Look how quickly he extracted those things from Hunter Levin, and instantly judged we must have gone back for troops to forcibly take him, immediately making a big scene to put us in a difficult position. His mind and judgment are absolutely first-rate. This man is definitely not easy to deal with." Rodhart's expression finally calmed, all emotions receding into his seemingly amiable eyes, transforming into a firm resolve. "Now, we'll just have to play it by ear. Let's go see what he's up to first."

  In the spacious hall of the timber yard owner's house, the inhuman Levin lay like a crushed lizard on the floor.

  "Everyone, look. This is the ruffian." Clovis displayed his captive like a prized trophy, pointing to the figure on the ground. "He and several accomplices slandered the two Lord Imperial Envoys, falsely accusing them of being the wanted criminals who killed the local official and Imperial Envoy here half a year ago. Everyone, tell me, shouldn't he be beaten?"

  "Yes, yes," the other officials chimed in, some with strained voices. These minor local officials had seen little; it was their first time witnessing the methods of a capital official.

  Ethan had to exert great effort to resist rushing forward and smashing Clovis's triumphant, savage face to a pulp, mainly out of consideration for Rodhart. While he himself might disregard everything, Rodhart was different.

  Clovis's eyes stayed fixed on Ethan. He walked over, bent down, and whispered in Levin's ear with the tone of a butcher and hunter: "Alright. Now repeat what you told me earlier for these esteemed gentlemen to hear. I remind you, you must say exactly what you told me. You know what will happen if you lie, don't you?" He spoke with great confidence, gently. "I know you definitely won't lie."

  "About half a year ago," Hunter Levin struggled to open his bloody mouth, his eye sockets, now just bloody holes, fixed blindly on the unseen Rodhart. Using a voice without teeth that whistled with blood and the breath of death, he stammered out the general situation at that time.

  The hall fell silent. Every official listened clearly. They all knew about that incident, and from certain angles and details, it didn't seem like a completely baseless fabrication. The officials couldn't fathom why they had been summoned to hear this, sensing some peculiar danger in the air. The very air in the hall seemed to congeal.

  Hunter Levin was undoubtedly at the absolute limit of his injuries. Relating this had consumed his last vestiges of strength. He only had breath left to exhale. Ethan couldn't bear it any longer. He stepped forward and briefly treated the horrifically excessive wounds, applying healing magic.

  "This is clearly slander." Clovis looked at the iron-faced Ethan, his voice filled with the joy of a victor, mocking him. "Everyone look, even showing such kindness to a ruffian who slandered him, such a morally noble cleric. How could he possibly be a criminal? Based on this alone, on this noble character, one can judge the truth of the matter, can't they? Right, Gentlemen?"

  "Yes, yes, it must be slander, utter nonsense." The officials, finding their excuse, nodded hastily. Though their minds weren't particularly sharp, their skill as officials was unparalleled; they always knew what stance to take.

  "But such ruffians should normally be executed on the spot. However, I thought carefully and decided that wouldn't be quite right." Clovis's modulated voice indicated he was savoring the pleasure of having his opponent cornered, his eyes sweeping over every face. "Think about it. If we rashly execute these fabricators, or exile them to some unseen place, wouldn't that leave room for gossip? People might think we truly have something to hide and are hastily eliminating evidence. That would be very bad for the two promising young lords, wouldn't it?"

  Ethan and Rodhart both understood. These words were meant for them. This was a demonstration, a warning. If things reached that stage, under the Duke's methods, they would be far more than just "in a bad spot."

  But relatively, this ambiguous stance also indicated it was merely coercion, not an immediate death sentence. As long as certain conditions were accepted, the situation was not irredeemable.

  Sure enough, Clovis's gaze swept over their faces, then spoke with a benevolent tone: "Therefore, I have decided to take these slanderers back to the capital. Perhaps we can investigate thoroughly and completely eliminate all doubts, clearing the two lords' names. What do you all say? Is this a good idea?"

  "Good, good." The officials continued to echo his sentiment. While they might not have been particularly clever, their instinct for self-preservation was razor-sharp; they always knew when to express support.

  "But the personal safety of these prisoners must be handled carefully. If anything goes wrong, it would be disastrous. Then we would truly be leaving ourselves open to suspicion, as if we had something to hide. Therefore, I think one of you two lords had best accompany me back." Clovis looked at Rodhart. "Right. Lord Rodhart will do. You are more rational and calm. I think, at a time like this, rationality and calmness will benefit everyone, won't it?"

  "Alright. I will go with you." Rodhart nodded, his expression composed. As if it were a simple, routine duty, there was even a hint of a smile on his lips. "I also want to know what instigated these villagers to slander me. But they were originally very kind, simple people. It's not their fault they ended up like this. Please don't make things difficult for them."

  "No problem." Clovis nodded, victory assured. "As long as the outcome aligns with my expectations, I can overlook the minor details in between."

  Clovis requested a small detachment of troops from the local official, preparing to leave immediately. Taking the opportunity, Ethan and Rodhart a brief consultation.

  Ethan said: "Are you really going back with him? Why don't we take troops and ambush him halfway, kill him, and make it look like the heretics did it..."

  "What kind of heretics can kill a Paladin Order captain? What about the soldiers who did it? Kill them to silence them too? Maybe the Duke would be even happier if we did that." Every reason Rodhart listed shattered Ethan's plan. "Besides... even if the two of us joined forces with the soldiers, if he truly wanted to escape, we absolutely couldn't stop him."

  "So we're just going to let him take Hunter Levin and the others back to the capital?"

  Rodhart pondered, his gentle, amiable face tormented by pain into resoluteness. After a long moment, he slowly nodded. "No, there's a way."

  "What way?"

  "He wants me to go with him to separate us. We are on imperial orders; we cannot both leave until the task here is complete. But if you resolve the situation here as quickly as possible and then catch up with us, things might turn around. I will try my best to slow his pace along the way."

  "Understood. Leave this place to me." Ethan answered with fighting spirit. It had been a long time since he'd felt such drive.

  After Rodhart left, Ethan immediately summoned the bitter-faced local official and asked: "Get me all the details about 'The God of Nature.' How to join, what the sect is really about. I need to send people to find out immediately. I'm going to infiltrate 'The God of Nature' myself to investigate."

  "Lord Imperial Envoy, how can we let you do such a thing? I will arrange people immediately."

  "No need. It's better for me to understand it personally."

  "That's impossible. Letting you, a man of your noble status and pure character, risk yourself is my dereliction of duty. Besides, how can a noble and virtuous cleric like you mix with filthy heretics?"

  "Cut the crap." The virtuous cleric glared fiercely at the bitter gourd. "Go do it. Now."